


The Chronicles of the Legend of Misericordia d'Angelique - Fic

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bad Fic, Deliberate Badfic, Deliberately Bad Fanfic, Multi, Self-Insert, WIP, also she's a goddess, and she talks to dragons, but I promise I'll finish it, isn't she kewl?!, original character do not steal, somebody else's self-insert, updates regularly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beautiful and smart Misericordia d’Angelique has a special power: she can see into alternate universes and walk between them at will.  She can even bring people from one to another with her!  When the Quest of Erebor threatens to separate Bilbo Baggins and Kili the Dwarf forever, Misericordia sees a way she can help them and save Middle Earth from a dreadful peril at the same time.  But, will being CEO of the Lantern Waste Coffee Company satisfy Thorin Oakenshield’s dreams of glory and gold?  And will the extra bits of Middle-Earth and Valinor that Misericordia brought into our world along with herself, Bilbo, and Kili ruin everything?  Read to find out!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chronicles of the Legend of Misericordia d'Angelique - Fic

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Chronicles of the Legend of Misericordia d'Angelique](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312270) by Anonymous. 



> PS Misericordia is NOT A MARY SUE!! And not mine, I'm only borrowing her because I loved her so much based on the awesome art Anonymous made for her, she needs a fandom of her own, ppl!!
> 
> Pls R & R but NO FLAMES111 Smaug likes flames though, he uses them to make toast :)

+++++++++++++++++Misericordia’s POV++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was another perfect day on Taniquetil, and Peggy and I were bored. I’m Misericordia d’Angelique, daughter of the Valar — Seriade to my friends — and you probably think my life is perfect. But it’s not that simple when your dad is Manwë, Ilúvatar’s viceregent and King of the Fields of Arda, and your mom is Queen Varda who created the stars. For one thing, it’s really isolated up here on the top of the Mountain. And what good is it that I have the cutest outfits evar, which I designed myself by the way, AND I have Dreambringer, the only sword ever forged by Fëanor himself before he turned evil, when Daddy never wants me to go down into Middle-Earth and help people?

Which, I’m just saying, I am _supposed to do_. I’m the only one who can wield Dreambringer, which means it was predestined for me, which means I have a destiny to fulfill with it, okay?

Your father can’t help it, Mummy says, when I try to talk to her about it. “He’s a father, it’s woven into the very substance of Arda. You may have been given the gift of Wisdom at birth, and the power to walk through all the hidden gates and doors of Arda and beyond, but you’ll always be his little girl.”

“But what am I supposed to do up here all the time?” I said reasonably. “I can’t practice the sword all day, I keep beating Uncle Tulkas and it’s starting to make him mad at me. And Aulë and Námo say there’s nothing more they can teach me about magic or the Lore of Arda. And Lúthien left to be with Beren beyond the World, so now I don’t even have anybody to go shopping with. All the other Valar have labors in the world, why can’t I?”

“Oh, darling,” Mamma said. Her perfect bosom heaved, and a crystalline tear fell along her cheek. “The Valar have lost so many of our treasures over the long ages of the world. How could we bear to risk you, the greatest treasure of all? Besides, you were raised here on Taniquetil in bliss and glory, and know not how your beauty could trouble the dreams of mortals. Remember the tale of the Silmarils, whose beauty was like unto yours, my daughter, and be content.”

Yeah, I know. Mummy is just like that sometimes. It’s embarrassing, but she’s Varda Starkindler, you can’t tell her that, you just need to let her declaim at you and hope that by Ilúvatar’s mercy nobody else is there to hear it. So I did my best to look moved and solemn, and when she was gone I shook the new stars out of my hair — I don’t know how they get there, no matter how often I brush it there are always new ones and they make awful tangles — and went to see what Peggy wanted to do. 

Peggy is Pegasus, of course. Daddy made her for me, or that’s what he says, though it’s hard to imagine that she hasn’t existed always. She’s much more beautiful than I am, whatever Mummy says, all opalescent white like the foam on the sea, and she has a voice like the music of the Ainur. It’s as hard on her as it is on me, being stuck up here with nothing to do when you have wings that can carry you across the spaces between the worlds. “She cried at me again,” I told Peggy. “What should I do?”

Peggy shrugged with her beautiful wings. “Don’t tell her,” she said. “I won’t if you won’t. Where are we going?”

I drew out the palantir from where I’d hidden it in the cloak of my floor-length hair. A few more stars fell out into the grass. (And by the way, Lúthien’s hair never does that. Hers is dark and soft and fluid as night, and always does what she wants it to do, and people who say I’m more beautiful than she is are deluded.) “Look here,” I said, showing her the travelers in Middle-Earth I’d been watching in it for days now. Twelve dwarves, one hobbit, on their way to try to kill a giant-ass dragon that was going to incinerate them on sight. Or smell, more likely, given how long it had been since they’d bathed. “Don’t you think they need our help?”

She watched them for a while in the glass. “No doubt about it.” She said. “Especially those two, the fussy little one and the cute one. You have a plan?”

Peggy and I, we’ve been through a lot together. She knows I always have a plan.

I threw Dreambringer into the air to summon the rainbow, and we rode it together, down into Middle-Earth.

 

We landed right where I’d planned, at the Lonely Mountain outside the dragon’s lair. (Don’t judge, there were already rumours of the Dwarves and their expedition throughout wilderland. What do you think, a famous wizard and a king in exile walk half way across a continent and nobody who sees them talks? Even buried under Erebor, Smaug had heard all about Thorin’s Quest weeks ago.) 

“It looks like the door should be there,” Peggy said, folding her wings as she landed on the grassy ledge. “Do you see it?”

“Right in front of you,” I said. It was the wrong phase of the moon for the hidden dwarf doors to be visible to normal eyes, but no door can be hidden from mine. It’s one of those Valar doom things, I guess. This one was a simple crack. I opened a door to a dimension where the moon was at the right phase, and the moon-doors opened with it, easy-peasy. I left Peggy outside, enjoying the view, and went in to have a little chat with Smaug about fate, and stories, and destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make this a chapter fic, yay! In the next chapter you'll see what happened when Seriade met Smaug, I decided to write it from Smaug's pov though. 
> 
> For the wonderful reader who sent me the anonymous ask, it's okay, the stars in Seria's hair are magical jewels that shine like stars, not real miniature stars! So they definitely will NOT give Peggy or Smaug or anybody else radiation poisoning, don't worry!!
> 
> ETA: I like getting asks, so tell me what you want to have happen next, okay? I have the whole story plotted out, but I might change some things if readers want me to, like pairings and stuff. I've decided not to update until I get at least ten reviews, so you have plenty of time to think about it. Seriade already has somebody she cares about, though, and she bets it's not who you think. :)


End file.
